


I'll Watch You In Your Sleep

by stomachaches



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Feels, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stomachaches/pseuds/stomachaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Am I gonna see you again?” he asks when Derek zips up his bag.</p><p>His shoulders visibly tense and he doesn’t turn around as he answers. “I can’t promise you that.”</p><p>-</p><p>In which Derek has no place in Beacon Hills anymore, but without him, Stiles can't feel at home either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Watch You In Your Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Team Halesparks' entry to the Sterek Summer Spectacle.

5:54am, Monday

“You still want to leave?”

Stiles is standing in the doorway, dread pooling in his stomach, almost making him sick.

“Of course, Stiles. Did you come here to stop me?” Derek shoots back with a sharp, almost cruel smile. It doesn’t suit him; Stiles isn’t used to this smile anymore, not after everything that happened.

When Derek and Cora turned back, he thought that maybe they won’t leave after all, that maybe they will stay. They did for another week, now that the looming threats of a murderous alpha pack and an equally murderous ex-girlfriend were eliminated, but Stiles expected Derek to stick with them. To stick with him.

“Maybe. It depends.” His hands are ice-cold but clammy and he wipes them on his jeans again and again. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just watches Derek fold his shirts with stoic movements, packing them one by one. He switches to his pants, then to the small rolls of his socks. “Am I gonna see you again?” he asks when Derek zips up his bag.

His shoulders visibly tense and he doesn’t turn around as he answers. “I can’t promise you that.”

“Then let me come,” Stiles blurts out and the words have already left his lips before he’s able to stop them, not even registering what he said for a long second. He’s waiting for Derek to snap, to tell him to leave already and stop nagging him, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, he swipes his eyes down Stiles’ frame, assessing him quickly, and then sighs.

“You have school and you’re not even eighteen yet. I can’t exactly kidnap you,” Derek replies, this time sounding a bit apologetic. It gives him hope and he hates it.

“What’s the use of the big bad wolf if he won’t even kidnap people?” Stiles jokes, but it falls flat, the words echoing off the walls of the too-empty loft.

He’s thankful to Cora when she bumps into the rail of the stairs seemingly on purpose and continues taking too-heavy steps as she heads down towards them, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Stiles. Hi,” she smiles at him.

“Hey, Cora,” he nods. He will miss her too, he thinks, even if he doesn’t really know her. At least Derek will have a sister again, he thinks bitterly.

Cora looks at them both, then raises an eyebrow. “I heard your argument up there,” she notes dryly. “Derek, he can come with us. At least you’ll have some company after you drop me off.”

Stiles doesn’t get it. “After you drop her off? What does that mean?”

Derek shakes his head and doesn’t reply. “Just because you skip town that doesn’t mean every teenager in Beacon Hills can do the same,” he grits out.

Cora snorts. “Well, it’s not like you intend to stay with me as a guardian. And it’s not even about you. Let Stiles accompany me to Mexico, then you can bring him back here. It’s going to take like, what? Six days? Five? He can call in sick to school,” she suggests. “We can get drunk down there on the good stuff before we part. Finally have some fun.”

But Stiles just realized something and he cannot let it go. “You’re not even staying with her?” he asks Derek, incredulously. “I thought you were leaving town to be with your family. With your sister, since your uncle is Creeper McCreep. What are you leaving the pack for, then?” he spits bitterly.

The siblings share twin looks and he can’t decipher it. Cora throws up her arms and mumbles about leaving her bag upstairs.

Derek stares after her, avoiding Stiles’ eyes. “I have to take care of something first.”

“Sounds awfully dangerous.”

Derek sighs and finally looks him in the eyes. “Go back home. Pack up, get your passport and ID, talk to your dad. Just to Mexico and back. If you’re not ready in an hour, we leave without you.”

Stiles can feel happiness bubbling in his chest at the words, the dread and anxiety he was feeling before gone in a second, as if they were never there in the first place. “You got it. I’ll be back in fifteen, man.”

He almost trips over on nothing as he turns around to leave. “Stiles!” Derek calls out after him, clearly annoyed. “Don’t bring too much stuff. There’s not enough room in the car as it is and if it doesn’t fit, I’ll throw your bag out the window.”

“Sure thing, big guy!” Stiles yells and shoots a thumbs up in his general direction.

“Call me that again and your bag flies whether it fits or not,” Derek grumbles, but he’s hallway out the door and couldn’t care less.

17:27pm, Monday

Travelling with Stiles was a terrible, horrible idea. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Jesus, dude, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Stiles stage-whispers as he tries to raise his ass from the puddle on Derek’s car seat.

“You spilled coffee on my crème seats!” Derek growls. He can’t believe he let this person sit into his darling.

Stiles has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Yes, and I apologized already! Don’t yell at me, help me get something to clean it up with.”

Derek can’t decide if he wants to rip his or Stiles’ face off. “I told you already that you can’t just clean this up! I can’t believe I actually let you put One Direction on.”

Stiles insisted that it was his turn with the music, since Cora let him have the passenger seat so she could catch some sleep in relative peace. Since Stiles wasn’t fond of Derek’s choice of music (silence) he took control over the radio, then somehow figured out how to connect his phone wirelessly (Derek still hasn’t managed to do this, even though he had the Camaro for over a year now) and was singing and dancing along to obnoxious pop songs, which, of course, ended with him knocking over the long-forgotten coffee between his thighs and god, it was a disaster.

Stiles squints suspiciously and points an accusatory finger at him. “When I put them on, you pretended you didn’t know who they were.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Everybody knows who they are, but that doesn’t mean they are happy with that knowledge.”

“Rude. Also, shh, you’ll wake Cora up!” he says, returning to stage-whispering.

“She’s already awake, don’t you worry,” she grumbles from the backseat.

“That’s because you woke her up,” Derek quips and he can hear Cora take a deep, long-suffering sigh.

“Excuse you! Your werewolf-y growling woke her up!”

“I growled because-“

Apparently, that’s when Cora had enough. “Thank you, boys!” she exclaims, shutting them up both. “Can we stop somewhere? I have to pee.”

“Sure thing,” Derek murmurs. They all stay quiet until they get to the nearest petrol station, and when they do, Stiles makes a run for the toilet too, to try and clean out his pants. Derek gets a few cans of soda, three pre-packaged sandwiches; a Kit Kat for Cora and Reese’s for Stiles, then sits down to an empty table and waits. Cora gets back first, smelling faintly of cheap liquid soap, and softly thanks him for the snacks.

“What’s up with you two?” she asks eventually, slowly munching on her chocolate.

Derek ducks his head and considers not replying at all, but he knows how persuasive his sister can be when she wants to know something. So he leans forward on the table and clears his throat. “When Erica and Boyd went missing, I didn’t know what to do. I was a terrible alpha, Cora, you have no idea, but I still was an alpha. I was nothing like mom,” his voice trembled, and he paused for a second. “But when they went missing, I realized that I’ve been wrong. I only cared about power and I lost my pack. I needed to find them, bring them home,” he looks around, checking that Stiles is still nowhere to be seen. “Me and Scott, we weren’t exactly on the best terms. And there weren’t many people in Beacon Hills I could even think about trusting.”

“So you asked him to help,” Cora concludes quietly.

Derek nods and cracks open a can.

“If it wasn’t for him, I think I would’ve gone crazy,” he says and takes a big gulp. “It was only research he did, nothing else. He never even stayed over for longer than necessary,” he lies. He can’t confess just everything about his summer to Cora yet. “But I think maybe he’s grown on me a bit,” he adds. “Just a little.”

“He’s alright,” Cora smiles. “I’d rather he was keeping you company than Peter,” she fake-shudders.

Derek laughs. “Cheers to that,” he raises his can and downs the rest of his coke. “I’m gonna go see if he managed to drown himself in a toilet yet.”

Stiles is standing in the middle of the bathroom in his socks and underwear, rubbing the dark spot furiously. He almost brains himself when Derek startles him and he has to stay and help him get out the black coffee spot. (He doesn’t succeed either.)

00:21am, Tuesday

“There is no way I’m rooming with either of you!” Cora screams immediately when it turns out that the motel they just pulled up to only has two free rooms left.

Derek sighs dejectedly and proceeds to pay for the two remaining rooms for the night.

Stiles pats him on the shoulder to express empathy. Derek shrugs his hand off.

It’s only later, when they are already up in their room, standing in the door, when Stiles realizes something important. “Derek? Why do we have one bed?”

“These were the last two rooms they had, you heard it. Cora has a double bed too,” he replies, not sounding very bothered by the whole thing.

Stiles drops his bag and throws his arms up into the air. “Fantastic. Just fantastic.”

“Feel free to sleep on the floor if you don’t want to share. I’m not going to stop you,” Derek says as he tugs on the collar of his shirt and takes it off in one fluid motion. Stiles yelps and tries avoiding his eyes, but it doesn’t work; the more he thinks about not looking at Derek, bent over, digging for something in his bag, the less he succeeds.

“Can’t you just sleep with Cora?” he grits out. “You’re related.”

“NO!” her yell comes from the neighboring room. With the combination of the way too thin motel walls and the werewolf hearing, she can probably hear everything that’s going on.

“Awesome,” Stiles sighs as Derek shrugs off his jeans too, giving a perfect view of his ass, and slips into the small bathroom.

When he comes out fifteen minutes later, his hair wet, only a small towel around his hips, Stiles makes a run for the shower and tries to think about Coach naked.

2:03am, Tuesday

“Your sister asleep?” Stiles whispers to the dark, quiet room. Him and Derek went to bed about an hour ago, backs turned to each other, carefully not touching.

Derek doesn’t reply for a long time, and just when Stiles thinks he’s asleep too, he murmurs a yes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Do you hear everything in this motel?”

He knows Derek is frowning without even being able to see it. “Yes…?”

“What are people doing?”

Derek snorts. “Sleeping, Stiles. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t,” he croaks out. “I can’t. Not since the nemeton.”

It feels too much, saying it out loud, telling it to Derek of all people. But he doesn’t think he can survive this night like this, when he has to pay attention to every little twitch of his body to make sure it doesn’t touch the other one on the bed.

“I can’t, either,” Derek sighs and Stiles can feel the bed shifting under the mass of his body. “If that’s any consolation.”

He rolls on his back and looks to his left, finds Derek already staring. They didn’t bother with the curtains and the moonlight emphasizes his ridiculous jawline, making him even more beautiful than he usually is. He can’t tell what color his eyes are in daylight either, but in the moonlight they look more magical than when any werewolf flashed their eyes at him. He could get lost in those eyes too easily, he thinks, and he wants to let himself fall.

Then Derek starts softly whispering. “There’s a kid below us with her parents. She’s been coughing all night and it keeps the whole family up. Her mom is too worried to go to sleep anyways. Must be her first cold,” he adds with a gentle smile. “Another girl’s been drinking, she’s pretty nauseous right now, if what she’s telling to her friend is any indication,” he pauses. “Two couples are having sex. One just started, but the other has been going on at it for quite some time. They can’t be much older than you are.”

Stiles swallows, and he can feel his skin tingling. All he wants to do is reach out and touch, but he feels as if he’d been paralyzed.

“A lot of things seem like a good idea at two am, Stiles,” Derek breathes into the too-big, too-small space between them. “I’ll tell you what people are doing if you promise to close your eyes and try to sleep.”

Stiles shuts his eyes and falls asleep. He doesn’t even have to try.

10:09am, Tuesday

The next morning, Derek is extremely tense. He feels weird, thinking back to the previous night. He knows he shouldn’t encourage Stiles’ behavior, but he was too tired to resist the temptation. The kid has some serious case of puppy love and Derek has no idea how to deal with it.

He pushes his own feelings deep down, so he can pretend that they don’t exist.

They leave quickly in the morning, and Derek tells them he wants to drive the remaining 19 hours to Mexico City without a motel stop. He doesn’t want to risk sleeping next to Stiles again, and it’s not like driving makes werewolves particularly exhausted.

Cora is doing okay during the ride, but Derek can see that it drives Stiles crazy. He asks for a bathroom break almost every hour, and changes radio stations before the songs can even end. Derek tells him to go to sleep, but he doesn’t – he can’t. He buys himself a coffee at every place they stop instead, and Derek pretends he can’t see the way his hands shake. The boy works himself into an anxious mess in less than a day.

Cora raises his eyebrows at Derek, and she reminds him so painfully of his mother that he can’t help himself anymore and he grabs the boy’s hand.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” he tells him and Cora politely puts in her earphones and turns her music up.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what will happen when I go back. I can still feel it inside me, that fucking town. I should leave for good.”

Derek grips his hand harder.

“I get it, why you want to leave. Your family must be like my nemeton,” he sighs. “Where did you go? After?” he asks, and suddenly Derek finds himself telling everything after the fire, from their awful rat-infested first apartment in New York to Laura’s favorite bar, even how he got his Camaro. He sees Cora slipping her earphones out, listening into the story. He wishes she knew her older sister like he did, but there’s nothing he can do about it anymore, so he tells more and more about her crazy adventures instead.

Stiles laughs and it’s easy.

9:17am, Wednesday

“Derek,” Cora smiles at him, and his heart breaks into a million pieces again. Technically, he’s not losing his sister this time; he can visit whenever he wants to, and he knows that even if he doesn’t check on him, she’ll be fine. But this is the first time he’s really realized that his baby sister built a whole new life for her during those years they didn’t see each other, a life he didn’t fit into anymore. “Call me,” she chokes out and Derek just nods into her hug, unable to say anything.

She only escapes his grip after long minutes and she gives him a serious look. “I don’t know what this whole owing to Laura thing is and I don’t want to know. So go back to New York and do whatever it is you have to. But then get out and be happy, Derek. Whether that’s with Stiles or not, that’s none of my business.” Derek turns crimson red and his sister laughs. “Don’t break the poor boy’s heart, that’s all I’m asking. He’s too handsome,” she says with a wink.

He watches her hugging Stiles, laughing with him as they bid their goodbyes.

“Visit me some time,” she tells them as her ride pulls up next to her. The Argentinean pack she’s found peace with is still far away from where they currently are.

“Of course,” he says with an easy smile, and as she gets in the car, he knows he won’t see her again. They grew apart too much, and they both had their own lives with their own demons, but for the first time, Derek didn’t mind.

9:57am, Wednesday

Stiles felt like an intruder while saying goodbye to Cora, even when she hugged her so hard he could feel his bones cracking, but now that he’s alone with Derek he feels – alive.

Somehow, Derek knows every little street of Mexico City, the twists and turns, all the small shops worth visiting and the food worth trying. His Spanish is impeccable and even though Stiles is one of the best students in his foreign language class, he can’t keep up with Derek’s ridiculous accent and perfect grammar. He still feels in his element, playing tourists for a day; they go to anthropology, fine arts and Frida Kahlo museums, they take a stroll in the historic center and Derek even buys him ice cream. His heart feels light for the first time since he can remember, and he never wants this feeling to end.

As the day comes to a close and the sun is setting, Derek nudges his shoulder. “Remember what Cora said? That we’ll get drunk in Mexico?” Derek asks him with a smirk. Stiles shakes his head and Derek continues. “There’s this bar not too far away from here. An hour or so by car. It’s owned by werewolves,” he says. “We mixed wolfsbane with alcohol sometimes, even tried brewing our own, but it never worked out too well. New York had some werewolf bars, but nothing compares to this place.” He pauses, looks Stiles up and down. “They also gladly serve minors,” he winks and Stiles punches him weakly. “Wanna go?”

“Hell yeah, big guy. Let’s get wasted.”

11:29pm, Wednesday

Getting drunk must be some sort of celebration for Derek, Stiles realizes.

He still seems sober after his third wolfsbane-laced beer though, whereas Stiles is definitely tipsy by his third one. Derek keeps laughing at him for being such a lightweight, and Stiles doesn’t even want to come up with a smart reply, stupidly grinning at Derek’s happiness. As Derek drinks more and more too, they start gravitating towards each other; Stiles keeps leaning into Derek, touching him – his arm, his knee, his shoulder. Derek catches his fingers once and doesn’t let go, tangles them together with his own ones instead; Stiles’ stomach swoops and he’s not sure if he’s going to kiss Derek or throw up from pure excitement (and a bit of alcohol) first. He just wants to go out to the car and breathe some fresh air.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he whispers into Derek’s ear, who throws his head back in laughter before what he just said even registers into Stiles.

“Do you have a problem with my seduction techniques, Hale?” he asks with a grin once he realizes.

“Oh, so this was all part of your big elaborate plan to seduce me, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Stiles replies as Derek tugs him out of the bar.

Outside, Derek grips his hips and presses him up against the car, and starts trailing wet kisses down on the side of his neck. He gently bites a spot, then sucks it into his mouth, making Stiles gasp. He needs Derek, needs his hands all over him, needs him touching Stiles. Just before it becomes too much, Derek removes his lips from his neck and touches their foreheads together.

They stand there for long minutes, breathing each other in. Stiles is suddenly terrified Derek is going to realize that this was all just a mistake, and leave him forever; he’s terrified he’s already in too deep and there’s no escape.

Derek’s lips ghost over his own, just like a memory of a kiss.

Stiles lets go and puts his palms on Derek’s chest to push him away a bit.

“Is everything okay?” Derek asks him, clearly confused.

“Why did you kiss me?” Stiles replies. He can’t pretend that it never happened anymore, can’t, because it’s killing him and he has to know what it all means to Derek. “Back in the loft, when I helped you find Boyd and Erica, why did you kiss me?” he asks, wishing his eyes wouldn’t sting with the promise of tears already.

Derek’s face looks shocked, as if not talking about it made Stiles forget that it actually happened. He could still feel Derek’s firm, sweaty body pressed up against him, the ghost of his touch, the bite of his kiss. Sometimes he thought it was just a fever dream, a hallucination caused by sleep-deprivation, but now Derek is here, he’s real, and he needs answers before he slips out of his reach again.

“I,” Derek swallows. “I don’t know.”

Stiles looks at him expectantly. “You have to give me something better than that.”

“Stiles, I could tell you a million reasons right now why we shouldn’t be doing this. A million reasons why I shouldn’t kiss you and why you shouldn’t kiss me, and I can tell you even more reasons why I still want to be kissing you. But I can’t think of a single one why you should feel the same, Stiles. You deserve everything and I can’t give enough.”

Stiles feels as if he was melting inside, something other than the alcohol in his system warming him.

“You’re so fucking stupid. You’re everything,” he tells him and surges up to kiss him.

2:08am, Thursday

Stiles fell asleep about half an hour ago, and Derek has never seen such a beautiful sight before. He feels like he has everything he could ever want – secluded from the world, Stiles in his car, wanting him back. He knows this feeling will pass with the effects of the wolfsbane, but for now he’s content to revel in it and continue counting Stiles’ moles anywhere where his pale skin peeks out from his clothes. He’s lightly snoring, his lips slightly opened, and Derek has never seen such a beautiful sight before.

He looks at the bruises left on his neck by his mouth, and he feels ashamed. He touches them lightly, tracing his fingers carefully over the marks, then a bit more firmly, with intent, drawing even the smallest amount of pain from Stiles. He softly moans in his sleep and Derek smiles down at him, then kisses his temple.

But the purple bruises still remain, Derek’s ugly work on Stiles’ beautiful skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, suddenly feeling sad. “I’m sorry for hurting you so many times,” he says with a press of his lips against his forehead. “I’m sorry for scaring you when we met. I’m sorry for not trusting you, I’m sorry for getting involved with Jennifer after you. I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, realizing he’s full-on crying now. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s drunk or if it’s because he’s a mess. “I’m sorry,” he adds one last time, because he’s going to leave him and he wasn’t ready to break Stiles’ heart just yet.

He doesn’t sleep, can’t spend another second not conscious that he gets to be with this boy.

4:01am, Saturday

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles,” Derek gently shakes him awake. He managed to fall asleep again while the other was driving. “We’re here.”

Stiles doesn’t even try to hide his scowl. Before he fell asleep, they spent the last few hours arguing – about them, about the future – and he was tired, way too tired to pretend that he was okay with this, with everything. Derek might have to go to New York for whatever unfinished business Laura has there, but he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy about it.  
He lets Derek grab his bag and hold his hand while they walk up to his room. Once there, he doesn’t say anything, and that pisses Stiles off even more. He can’t even yell at him, because his dad is asleep in the room next to his, and waking him up wouldn’t result in anything good.

“So this is it?” he asks eventually when he finds his voice.

“Yes,” Derek replies calmly.

“This- that’s, that’s just- really? You lead me to the door like a good doting boyfriend and then- see you never?” Stiles is on the verge of tears and he knows he looks pathetic, but he can’t help it.

“Stiles, you’re seventeen! If your dad finds out, he can have me arrested! He won’t care if you turn eighteen in four months.”

“We never had sex!” Stiles all but yells, and Derek slaps his hand over his mouth.

“You’re crazy! He’s going to wake up. Quiet.” Stiles angrily yanks his head away from his grasp and collapses onto his bed.

“You should’ve thought about this before you kissed me, Derek Hale. You can’t just take things back,” he says, shaking his head.

“I never lied to you. I do have to go to New York. And you know this place is a living hell for me. You won’t ever leave Scott and your dad and Stiles, maybe we just. I don’t know,” he laughs humorlessly. “Maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

“You love me, Derek,” Stiles says – not as a plea, not as a question, but as a fact. “You didn’t want to love me, but it happened. And I love you too, and we could be happy. I know it. And that’s ‘meant to be’.”

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

Stiles shakes his head and Derek leaves.

1:33am, Monday

_From Derek: You were right._

_To Derek: Really? Tell me something I don’t know._

_From Derek: I’ll come back before you go off to college. Wait for me?_

11:21am, Saturday

“You took before college quite literally,” the boy – the man standing in front of Derek says. His hair is longer, his shoulders are boarder, but it’s undeniably him. “I’m moving today. Were you spying on me?”

Stiles is still a bit angry with him, so he only gets to hold his hand and he doesn’t get a welcome-back kiss for two whole days. It’s a real torture for both of them.

(Stiles doesn’t ask if he’s staying this time. Derek doesn’t leave again.)

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? [Vote for Team Halesparks here!](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.poll-maker.com%2Fpoll788266xE9b24beC-32&t=ZWFkMTgzZWY3MjBlMjA4ZDhkZDU3MmIwODE0NjM0NDhiYzljNTQzMCxwTnhkRUFsZw%3D%3D)


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